


Sword-Myth, Sword-Smith

by Marien



Category: Sword-Dancer Saga - Jennifer Roberson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:00:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21840886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marien/pseuds/Marien
Summary: Yuletide fic for Merfilly, set following the events of 'Sword Sworn'. Hope you enjoy! Happy Yule!
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Sword-Myth, Sword-Smith

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merfilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/gifts).



Sword-Myth, Sword-Smith

It had been two days since I last sparred with anyone.  
Despite what we said in the hours after our daughter was born, Del declined--with unusual diplomacy--to get up and walk outside for a sword-fight less than a day after giving birth to a baby. I didn't press the point. Oh, I had no doubt she would if it were truly needful (and would give the sandsick idiot who **made** it needful the beating of his entire life), but she wanted some peace and quiet just now.  
Temporarily.  
Ahriman, Neesha and Alric tended the garden and livestock while we rested. Ahriman came to the front door to offer us his congratulations, and present a little Sula-sized sun hat he'd made. Beit al-Shahar didn't have the scorching heat of the Punja, but the sun could still burn or blind.  
I thought that might be the most words I'd heard out of my student at once in the half-year I'd known him. Del simply took the hat and thanked him.  
"Would you like to hold her?" she asked. 

He hesitated, then nodded and knelt by her chair. She relinquished Sula to him carefully as I gave him a warning look. He cradled the baby against his chest, her head in the crook of his elbow. She giggled, waving tiny hands and feet. He smiled at her. I was a little surprised at how easily he did it, as if--he'd had practice?

"Do you have children, Ahriman?" 

A shadow crossed his face. "No. "

Sula got ahold of his thumb. He chuckled softly. " You've a fighter's grip already," he said, approval in his tone. After a few minutes, he returned her to her mother's arms. 

Hoolies. I hadn't pictured Sula growing up to want to be like Del--or me--but with us raising her, it might be unavoidable. 

Del kicked me in the shin. I yelped. She tugged my head down to hers, and gave me a kiss that made me forget how to breathe for several minutes. 

"Go do something else," she told me firmly. "Even if it's drinking aqivi. No worrying about possible futures today."

She and our daughter both gave me inscrutable, blue-eyed stares. I knew better than to argue. 

Instead I took my sword (and my blushing student) outside, and Ahriman and I went a few rounds in the circle. 

He tried his best. I couldn't fault his resolve or effort, but even after a month of training, he had bad habits I couldn't seem to unteach him. He was better than he'd been. I'd grant that. Yet...he held back, at the worst possible times. Perhaps I should have Alric or Del train with him. If he couldn't learn my particular style, Northern sword-fighting might be of more use. I simply wasn't sure if it was 'couldn't' or 'wouldn't'--and blast it, I wanted this to _work._  
I enjoyed teaching, I'd found, and the thought of giving up always galled me. 

"Watch your stance," Neesha called from outside the circle. "You're still leaving yourself open--" 

_"Nayyib._ " Alric's voice was quiet, but sharp-edged. "Come away. Let them work." 

I gave Alric a raised eyebrow, silently asking a number of questions at once. He shrugged, and made a gesture toward Ahriman. "Later," he mouthed as he led Neesha toward the stables.

Alric was a seasoned sword-dancer, and a good one. He had the patience I sometimes lacked. So his seeming _im_ patience caught more of my attention. He and my son usually got on well. 

Ahriman took advantage of my distraction to strike at my left side. I dodged a hair too slowly. The edge scraped along my ribs, leaving a stinging red line. I caught his blade with my own, batting it away.  
Then I stepped out of the circle altogether. He didn't pursue. I put up my sword. 

"First blood. Well fought," I meant it. I'd learned a few things about him, closemouthed as he often was; he preferred truth, even hard and unflattering, to false praise.  


"Your family distract you." 

I considered that, and had to admit the truth to it. "There's a price for everything. Question you have to ask yourself is if it's worth it. Nothing comes for free." And Delilah, Neesha, Sula?  
Worth more than the whole world, to me. 

"Family can be your strength, too, a reason to keep going when you have nothing else. Ask Del about that, sometime."

"Ask Del now, if you like," my bascha suggested. I looked up to see her standing a few paces to the left, her own sword in its harness. "Lena's watching Sula," the instant I opened my mouth to ask. " I wanted to feel the ground under our feet." She was watching Ahriman, her expression coolly weighing and measuring him. 

"You aren't thinking of the Sandtiger's cubs. " It wasn't a question. "You wonder if you have a place anywhere, or will have. " 

He grinned wryly and touched his fingers to his temple, a rough salute. 

"I can tell you, as he can, that there's always a home for a sword-dancer: in the circle. "

"Even a sword-dancer or -singer that is _sel-adiin_?" There was bitterness in his words. I frowned. I recognized the word as Northern by the accent, but I didn't know the meaning. 

"Yes," she replied at once, flatly. "Even so." 

"And would you still say that if I told your ...swordmate, what I truly think when I see him? What I dream ?" 

Her smile was gentle, rather than mocking. "What makes you think he doesn't already guess, _ishtoya?_ " 

He blinked. I tried not to, as I had no idea what she meant, and had no wish to appear entirely stupid in front of my students. 

"No. He loves _you._ " 

"And he is faithful. But neither of us expected our lives to turn out as they have, Ahriman. Tiger asked me once what sort of man I dreamed of, or hoped for, as a young girl, and I told him I didn't--but I found him anyway." She stood beside me now, and her hand slipped into mine. "Sometimes it's what one doesn't see coming, the unwritten path, that's the right one. I think you're strong enough to take it."

"Not yet," he disagreed, though politely. "I--I'm trying." 

"You've come to the right teachers. Not just for sword-dancing, but for how to carve out a future that is so utterly different from what you were 'raised' or 'destined' to be."  


I had to snort at that, even still confused. "Chula, then sword-dancer, then jhihadi, then sorcerer... I don't even know what 'destined' means anymore, except for a word I get very tired of hearing."

Then a hint finally penetrated my old battered skull, and was followed by (yet another) cantina stool to the head. _Oh._

I looked at him, and at Del, and then met his gaze straight on. " _Sel-adiin._ Huh. If I'm understanding you, then I think they'd call them two-spirited among the Salset. Most of the other Southron words I've heard for it mean 'weakling', at best, which counts us both out. Other than that, Del's right." 

"Of course I'm right." She cuffed me on the shoulder. 

Some of the tension and worry went out of his face. 

"Hmph. Well. We should teach our students some Northern customs as well as Southern, bascha. You mentioned aqivi...I seem to recall you telling me how sword-singers on Staal-Ysta are taught to stay clear of mind even if they're in their cups. " I smirked.  
If _I_ had to deal with feeling as though I'd been whacked over the head with heavy pieces of wood, I meant to have company. 

Delilah's smile bared teeth. "We should. But first, a more common Northern custom. Dance with me," she dared Ahriman, unsheathing her sword. 

He did the same. I withdrew a few feet to watch them spar.

Clearly, neither of them was holding back. He'd gotten some of the forms down well enough to strike or parry swiftly, not letting his guard down. Neither drew blood, and it wasn't for lack of trying.  
The clash of swords drowned out other sounds, but I glimpsed Neesha out of the corner of my eye. He watched them, too, his expression vaguely disgruntled.  
Del eventually put Ahriman in the dirt, unsurprisingly, but it took her far longer than it would have done even a few weeks ago. The difference was visible.  
She held out a hand to help him up. He took it, smiling.

I tapped Neesha on the shoulder. He glanced at me. 

"Come help me saddle the horses. We're going into the cantina. Lesson's over for the day."  


"I could work out with Del, too," he suggested.  


"I said lessons are over. " 

He bristled, but didn't argue. 

The stud was restless. I got him saddled and bridled while Neesha got the tack for Del's gelding. "Is Alric coming too?" he called.

"Me, you, Del, Ahriman. I think Alric and Lena have other plans for the evening."

He scowled. 

"What's chewing your tail?"  


"I don't know why you continue to waste time on him. He's a coward, and a--a liar."

Well. That answered my question as to whether or not Neesha had overheard us talking. 

"A coward is a man or woman who lets fear rule them instead of mastering it. I don't have any students who've done that. As to whether or not it's a waste of time to train Ahriman, that's for his teachers to judge. This isn't like a family business, Neesha, where the 'trade secrets' are only passed down from father to son. Or daughter," I added belatedly.  
He looked at his feet, for a second, resembling a pouting adolescent more than a man grown. My words had hit the mark. 

"Jealousy isn't going to make you a better fighter," I told him. "Or looking down on people."  
I gestured at the scrape along my ribs. It had stopped oozing blood, but it still stung. "It takes only a moment's overconfidence to see you beaten. Or dead."  
He didn't like hearing that, plainly, but he fell silent, mulling over my words. Del and Ahriman caught up to us as I was explaining to the Stud that if he tried to bite me, I would return the favor. 

Fouad's cantina was quiet, though not empty. We took an empty table toward the back.  
I had the wine-girl bring us full pitchers of both aqivi and ale.  
Both young men scoffed when Del explained the idea behind tonight's visit. "This is a thing I did on Staal-Ysta, to learn to keep one's wits about yourself and know where your limits are. "  


"By drinking until we can no longer see straight. I think your teachers might have been having a jest at your expense, " Ahriman said, distinctly skeptical.  


Del smiled sweetly and filled their cups.  
Again  
and  
again  
and

Again.  
Delilah and I stayed sober, having only cold sweet tea and bread.

I discovered at one point that our (thankfully, unarmed) Neesha had a worse singing voice than I did, which I hadn't believed possible.  
Ahriman tried to do a handstand across the room, and found himself lying in Fouad's lap. The little man seemed caught between mortification and bursting out laughing.  
The few other customers present simply gave us a wide berth.  
Once the 'cubs' could no longer walk under their own power, Del judged the exercise had continued long enough. We took them outside, with some help from the wine-girls.  
The Stud bucked as I tried to get Neesha up onto his back. I grabbed his bridle, yanking hard. "Not. Now." The words sounded more like a growl than usual, even for me.  
He reared and almost jerked me off my feet...a bare second before the man who'd come up behind me could finish his attempt to drive a sword through my back. He recoiled, losing his balance--and his grip. I heard his sword clatter to the ground as I spun to face him.  
Then he was on the ground, screaming in pain. A throwing knife was buried to the hilt in his leg. 

The Stud neighed furiously, and brought his front hooves down on the man's outstretched arm. The son of a Salset goat shrieked again, but still grabbed at his sword. I crouched, seized the knife and pulled it clear. He ceased trying to kill me, now being somewhat distracted by bleeding like a stuck pig.  
I heard voices shouting from down the street; glimpsed people hurrying toward us out of the corner of my eye.  
"Go!" I shouted to Del. I didn't intend to wait and see if they were gawkers, or more enemies. 

Del got the students on their horses, and chivvied them back to the house. I followed, my sword drawn, as was hers. None of us looked back. 

I offered her the knife as I dismounted. She looked at me quizzically. 

"It's not yours, bascha ? I thought that that was your throw."

"No. Mine. " Neesha's voice was slurred, but clear. "Used to use knives like that as a boy, playing sword-dancer, before I decided on the real thing...Ahri gave me it a few days ago. One of those he made. That man ...Why'd he try to do that?"

"Because he could. Any sword-dancer can. " Del sounded tense. "They think Tiger has no honor, and so they needn't keep to it themselves." 

"Stupid," Neesha and Ahriman said in unison. They looked at each other, seeming taken aback.

Neesha gave him a rueful nod. "Thanks for the blade. Shouldn'ta run my mouth earlier, 'm sorry."

"S alright." Ahriman looked faintly green as he slid down off his horse's back. 

Del studied the knife. It was a lethal little piece of work, small but razor-sharp, the hilt carved in the shape of a bird of prey. "May I keep this?" she asked Neesha. "For a day or two." 

"You think he didn't come alone," I asked in a low voice. 

"I think I would rather prepare for that and be wrong, than the reverse. Let's get them inside."

We poured Neesha and Ahriman into their beds. Del went up to Sula.  
Alric beckoned me. "I'll keep watch tonight. You and Del...have some things to talk over, I believe."  


I scratched at my beard. "You know, when I was chula--I wasn't allowed to say no to my betters. The _shodo_ at Alimat had to teach me that along with everything else. That honor means not using people, or their...admiration of you, your skills or knowledge, to take what you should have to earn."

He sighed. "Ahriman...confided in me. He's overawed by you, Tiger. He wants so badly to impress you, and it would be easy to play into it. But--"

"Alric, after that tangle with Chosa Dei and Ajani, I know that legends can cut you open to bleed too. Sometimes in the actual flesh. He wants the great 'Sandtiger', but what he needs is a teacher. A sword-brother, not a lover. If not me, then who? I don't mean to drive him out. He's done nothing wrong."  


"Just so long as you see it."  


Sula was asleep bundled in Del's arms. I curled up next to them.  


"Did you recognize him?" she asked in a low voice. "The other sword-dancer?" 

"No. Tell me something; you knew Ahriman--was--" I searched for words. "Why didn't you say anything? "

"I don't recall your raising your voice to me when _you_ thought I was turning away from you to Neesha. You were jealous, and afraid, but you left me to make my own choice."

I flinched. "I _have_ chosen."

"I know. I trust you, Tiger. I haven't always deserved _your_ trust. I'm not going to hover over you every second like a harem guard or slaver. But we have more urgent matters at hand now."

I smiled tightly. "I've tried being reasonable. I've tried staying out of their sight. I think it's time I stopped offering my back to these fools. "

"What then?" 

"If they come here? We make an example of them. If nothing else, corpses can't stab me. Or you." 

"If?"  


"...all right." 

We slept. The night passed uneventfully. 

I woke just before dawn, to the sound of voices. Unfamiliar, men's voices.  
I took a sword and walked outdoors. 

Alric rubbed sleep out of his eyes. He tersely introduced me to the two sword-dancers who'd arrived.  
I sized them up, as they stared at me. 

"So which of you wants to fight me first? " I was in no mood to mince words.

"You maimed Rafiz." 

"And? Should I fall on my sword weeping in remorse?" I gestured sharply in dismissal. "Draw the circle. Or walk away. Enough talk and empty bragging." 

I had a daughter. I hadn't come this far to leave her to grow up without both of her parents. 

It wasn't a dance. It was short, ugly, messy, and there would be new stories told about the Tiger. Ones that didn't paint me as a hero protecting the helpless...or coddling fools who didn't know that a single bite from a sandtiger can kill. 

One of the would-be challengers stumbled away, his face carved open to bone, the eye a bloody ruin. 

The other's body was left outside the canyon for any thieves or scavengers who came across it.  
Del steadied me as I lurched over to a nearby stream to wash blood and offal off my arms. 

"Still want to be a sword-dancer?" I asked my students. They'd witnessed the fight, but a sharp order from Del kept them at a safe distance. They were both still hungover and unsteady, and I'd had my hands full protecting my own backside. Never mind theirs. 

"Yes," they chorused. 

I held up the throwing knife. "That's our next lesson. Tomorrow. You're going to show me how you use one of these, Neesha, and you--" I gestured at Ahriman, "are going to go to the smith in Julah, you and Del, and show her how you forged this."

"I was apprenticed to a blacksmith for a year or two, before I decided I wanted to know how to fight, not just make swords for other m--other dancers," he corrected himself quickly, glancing at Delilah.

"Growing wiser," I murmured. "Can you forge swords too?"

"Yes." 

Most sword-dancers bought their weapons, or won them in challenge, or looted off their enemies' bodies... I remembered my _jivatma_ being forged, and decided that no, I wasn't too old and stubborn to learn a few new tricks myself. Del was right about that, too. 

"Tomorrow, then." 

I set my blades aside, for a little while, and went inside to spend a few hours cuddling my daughter myself, and singing to her.


End file.
